It was but her sixth year into this world. She was angelically Innocent, brittle and ignorant when it first began. She broke a cup to grasp her idle mother's attention for it was the only thing she strongly desired. She observed her mother run into her bedroom and storm out. Before she could notice the belt in her mommy's hand, she smiled. Innocent as she was, she couldn't understand that the clothing accessory had become a mean to kill. Then came the hits, whip after whip. She cried as loud as she could. "Mommy, why? Mommy, why? "But it was all in vain.
Every night thereafter, she was beaten, sometimes for wrongs, sometimes for rights. Justice played no part in her misery and she knew it well.
It was now her daily routine. Like all routines, it first aroused her emotions. It made her weep, shiver and shout. Then one day, she ceased shouting and fighting back. Her tears became a habitual manner. She would shift her thoughts to her future and think: "I will never become like you!" She would repeat the words in her mind until they were muttered audibly, for repeating them was all she could do to silence her rage.

She was unknowingly sinking in an abyss of Apathy.

On a fall night, when she was no longer fragile, she followed the wind. She knew not where to go, but that did not matter as she kept running. She ran from –and to- the gap of darkness.
Years went by and she never stopped escaping. "Never will I become like her!" was all that haunted her all these years. "Never will I become like her!" were the words she angrily uttered as she held the Belt in her hands and dashed towards her little boy too.